


Walkers of the Lonely Path

by Calescent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Suicide, THIS IS DEPRESSING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calescent/pseuds/Calescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theron Mahariel doesn't like the mirror in the ruins... and it doesn't like him.</p><p>The tale of what happens when Duncan doesn't come to recruit in the Brecilian Forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walkers of the Lonely Path

Theron Mahariel frowned at the large mirror in front of them. Surrounded by black with a surface that didn’t actually reflect anything, it was like nothing he had ever seen. Something about it bothered him though. It was as if, and he knew this sounded strange, it was looking at him, trying to delve into how his body worked, just so it could take him apart later.

“Tamlen, we should go. The keeper will want to hear about our discovery.” The words came from his mouth as an itching sensation started at the base of his spine, creeping up under his armor. Unable to help himself, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, placing it against his bow's string. 

“You worry too much,” Tamlen said. “Perhaps that’s why the keeper—wait, did you see that?”

“See what?” Theron glanced around, gloom of the ruins driving the itch up higher. Something was definitely wrong with this place.

Tamlen climbed closer to the strange mirror, footsteps soft in a place long abandoned by sentient beings. Glaring at the dust raised by the movement, Theron looked up just in time to see the surface of the mirror ripple.

“There!” His friend shouted, taking another step. “I think I see something…”

“Tamlen, we really should leave,” Theron insisted. It felt as if a spider was on his neck, trying to dig through his skin. Ignoring him, the blond elf reached up, hand a breath away from the smooth surface.

“It’s… showing me places. I can see… some kind of city… underground?” Tamlen, sounding excited, glanced back at Theron who moved up next to him. If his friend was going to be an idiot, he wasn’t going to do it alone. “And… there’s a great blackness.”

A low ringing noise came from mirror and Tamlen’s eyes widened. “It… it saw me! Help! I can’t look away!”

Theron lifted his foot to help but then there was a flash of light and whispers. Nothingness.

+++

He came to slowly, head spinning. His vision twirled, twisting things that should have been familiar into things that were definitely not. Something tasted foul, dripping from his mouth and then he was gone again. 

When Theron was conscious again, his head pounded and his limbs might as well have been trampled by a herd of halla for how they ached. _What had… Tamlen?_

He forced himself to his knees, right hand squishing into… vomit. His own probably. Gagging, Theron dragged himself away, muscles trembling with the effort. The area wasn’t familiar but… yes, he was outside the ruins. _How had he gotten here?_

“Tamlen!” He yelled, voice rasping. Nothing answered, no birds even calling out from the trees. “By the Creators, Tamlen! Where are you?”

When there was once again no answer, Theron glared at his shaking hands as if somehow that could return strength to them. He could rest and try to return to the camp, making his way through miles of dense forest or he could look for his friend. Lips turning up in a bitter smile, Theron wiped his hand in the grass, cleaning it the best he could. That wasn’t even a choice.

Moving with the convoluted grace of a newborn halla, he forced himself to his feet. His clothes were ruined, Lyna might have something to say about that but he couldn’t care. Each step felt like a leap of fate, trusting his legs not to fail him. _One foot in front of the other. Balance. Now move the next one._ A distance he and Tamlen covered quickly even with enemies earlier now took an eternity. 

He passed the corpses they had left, ignoring the stenches that were already drifting off them. A sharp rock bite into his palm as he stumbled against a wall and Theron swore. It was barely worth the effort, he was so tired.

After several lifetimes of shuffling, Theron collapsed in the chamber with the mirror. He didn’t know if he could move anymore, face pressed into the dirt of the floor. 

“Tamlen… Are you here?” His attempt at a shout barely moved the layer of dust, but it was loud amidst the silence of the ruins. The marathon he had just done could have been an avalanche for how much noise it made. 

Body feeling like it was going to shake apart, Theron hoisted himself up to his elbows, eyes searching for something… any sign of his friend. 

All he could see were their footsteps leading up to the mirror and a bow, his bow, sitting on the top step with a single arrow. Theron opened his mouth to yell again but instead dropped his head against his forearm, not even enough energy to cry. _Where was Tamlen?_

When he opened his eyes again, the veins in his arm drew his attention. They were black. 

A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature swept over him. There was only one thing he had heard of that did this. The Blight, for which there was no cure.

Compared to the disappearance of his best friend, this barely fazed him. Death was hardly uncommon, it would have come to him eventually. But… the mirror. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the mirror was to blame for everything. Tamlen’s vanishing act, the strange creatures that had walked the ruins, and his own disease were all due the object which sat in its black frame, acting for all the world as if it was a normal object. 

Anger gave him the strength to force his quaking limbs to move once more, inching forward. The steps seemed to tear his skin as he crawled his way up them. He had to pause half way up, staring at the black lines that were now covering more of his arms, unable to catch his breath. Determination eventually won out and he forced himself into an uneasy sitting position, wavering unsteadily as the world moved around him. His hand searched the ground when his eyes caught on the mirror, focusing unnaturally. It was the center of everything. 

Fingers brushing smooth wood, he brought his familiar weapon to cradle in arms that no longer looked like his own. He was dying, but that didn’t mean he had to leave without accomplishing something first. He’d protect his clan, no matter the cost to himself. 

Demanding obedience from rebelling limbs, he pulled the drawstring, barely bothering to aim. The target absorbed his vision. Arms threatening to give up, _they were no better than a child’s_ , he released, arrow darting to the mirror and shattering the horror. Whispers rushed over his ears, but it broke like any other glass object. It rang out against the hard stone, breaking into smaller and smaller pieces.

Sharp grey shards, still refusing to reflect anything, spread out in front of him, taunting him with what they had stolen. Theron growled and reached out to take one, glass slicing his fingers as easily as a blade. His blood rain red across the surface, somehow a comfort. He wasn’t completely lost yet. 

“Ar lasa mala revas, Tamlen,” Theron said, dragging the shard against his left wrist, more red liquid flowing from the line. The pain was nothing so trading his make-shift weapon to his other hand, he repeated the gesture. Blood draining from him body, he was barely aware of the glass falling from his fingers. The world dimmed and his face hurt as it slammed into something hard, bits of the mirror sinking into soft flesh. 

Grey stone became greyer and Theron felt himself sinking. Thoughts strained against his mind, unable to fully form. _Was this all there was? This… this… emptiness? But… he... fought… and killed… those creatures. Not many Dalish… could claim that._

Theron Mahariel took one last shuddering breathe and then he was gone, pride too great to let the Blight waste him away.


End file.
